Dreams of Departure (After Naguib Mahfouz, Dream 139)

- Bryanna Millis

It was about the veil. The one that separates one world from another.

The one that falls from our eyes so we might see our illusions as reality.

 

Real. Like whisky on the tongue. Like the windy night.

Like making it to the airport on time.

 

In my dreams I am always missing flights. 

I am far away, trapped. I have lost track of time.

 

Wrapped in bedsheets in a maze-like house, waiting in a jungle village, stranded on a boat tour of islands.

I have no clothes, no ticket, no idea where I am or where I'm going to.

 

I wonder what it means. Fear or desire, to stay or to go?

A fundamental ambivalence about the choices in front of me?

 

Choices I created, from options that don't exist.

They are not real, until they are.

 

"…First it looked to me like a magnificent forest, but when I drew another step closer, the woods disappeared, replaced by a naked woman with many obvious attractions.

One more step, and the lady was gone. Instead there was a raging battle in which every type of weapon, from stones to the latest gadgets, came to hand."

 

In the waking dream I miss my flight too.

But I find myself where I am supposed to be, so that fate can meet me.